


The Future is Now

by DustySoul



Series: DustySoul's Hamilton College AUs [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Queerplatonic Relationships, Roommates, Slow Build, only sort of see notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Lams college AU using relationship norms of the 1800s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roommate Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> *Cracks knuckles*. I hope you’re ready for a college AU with an eighteen hundreds perspective on relationships.  
> For those who are not familiar, physical affection between male friends was 100% a-okay. Sodomy was not. Literally, anything other than sodomy was a go. Including mutual masturbation. I mean, in private, of course. It’s like… the ultimate “no homo”. “It’s not gay if it’s not in the butt”.  
> *Cracks neck*. Let’s do this.
> 
>  
> 
> Tags, rating, and catagory supbject to change as this goes on. I have no idea what I'm doing. No plot. Nothing. I'm just going for it. It's another Lams college AU folks!
> 
> Wow this is a horrible opening note and I am going to change it soon.
> 
> Also, please note, I am white. If anyone takes issue with how I choice to adapt these characters to the twenty first century let me know. I'm aware this type of story maybe isn't mine to tell and I'm willing to remove the focus on Lauran's trans racial adoption if I'm out of my lane. I don't know how much it's going to be a focus in the story at this point.

_Alexander Hamilton_

 

His guidance counselor was impressed. His latest foster parents weren't. He didn’t get a full ride from his first choice university but he’d won enough essay scholarships that it didn’t matter. One final semester in hell, an air plane then a train ride has him hurtling toward his future, full speed.

He’d have it no other way.

 

 

_John Laurens_

 

“I don’t see why you have to go to school all the way across the country.” John’s mother leans against the door way to his room, watching him pack.

He looks up at her and smiles. Years of practice - standing in front of a hundred camera flashes - keep it from coming out tensed.

“Well.” She sighs, “We’ll keep your room just as it is. Visit us often, won’t you.”

He nods. She hovers for just a little longer. “Did your father tell you-?”

“You won’t be able to say good-bye at the air port.” This smile feels a little less forced, “No, it's okay. I understand. He’s got a big company to run, some very important events.”

“If it wasn’t an election year-”

“It’s fine. Mom, I’ll be fine on my own, okay?”

“Alright dear. Well… I’ll let you get to it. Let me know if there’s anything you need sent to you.” She makes an unhappy noise, “Really, those dorms are so small, I’m sure you could-”

“It’s fine mom. Cramped dorm rooms, asshole roommates, that’s what college is, right?”

She sighs, frowning, “I’ll miss you.”

 _It’s hard to live with someone for eighteen years and_ ** _not_** _miss them._ “I really got to finish packing.” He says instead.

She leaves him.

In the end it’s not much, two suitcases and a duffle bag. He could of course have more shipped to him, but that would just be excessive. Most of these trinkets and knick knacks don’t feel like his anyway.

 He doesn’t need them. He doesn’t want them. They’re from a childhood that wasn’t truly his. And he has no intension of ever seeing them again.

 

It’s easier to say good-bye to his parents in the morning when they are rushed and absent minded. Henry yelling that they should be in Chicago already and his mother trying to kiss him on the cheek. It’s not a proper good-bye. There’s no hugging, no tears.

"Be good, son."

"Yes, father."

Objectively it makes the rest of the day harder. He gets “randomly” searched going through airport security. Black youth? Must be a threat. Black youth, hand in hand with his rich, white parents? Threat neutralized. It’s quick, a few moments of discomfort. He exchanges curt and respectful conversation with the security guard.

“Step this way.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“You’re free to go.”

“Thanks, have a nice day.”

It almost doesn’t matter except it leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a lingering feeling of fear along the places those gloved hands touched him.

 

 

_Alexander Hamilton_

 

There is a parade of cars - students, families, and all their worldly possessions - outside the freshman dorm room. Of course he expected it, but seeing it is another thing. His chest aches, walking past them. He doesn’t need a cart to take his stuff up to his dorm so he skips that line.

Signing in is organized chaos. There are three less student workers than there should be and they frantically shuffle through their note cards.

“Name?” One yells at him.

“Alexander Hamilton.”

“Hmm…”

“What did he say?” Another asks.

“Hamilton A. Do you have him?”

“Over here! I got you.”

Alexander makes his way over to the purple haired woman who’d called to him.

“Alright, This is the key to your dorm. If you lose it it’s fifty dollars to replace. Please take our brochures. That one explains how to connect to the wifi, this one is about how to file a maintenance request, and this one is about fire safety. You’ll be asked to create a pin number to use to sign into the building. You’ll swipe your ID, you have your ID right? Good, you’ll swipe your ID and then put in your pin. Good? Great, Bye.”

He nods, swept up by the crowd before he can think of anything else to say. Well… that was efficient. 

There's a crowd by the elevator bay so he decides to take the stairs instead of risking being trapped by those huge carts. The eleventh floor is quiet and seemingly abandoned. He finds his room easily enough. It’s a corner room and empty. Since the AC hasn’t been turned on it’s uncomfortably warm. Although a large part of that might be form the exertion of climbing up the stairs. The furniture as all been pushed to either side and the mattresses are leaning against the wall. He drops his bags across from the door and pulls one of the mattresses so it’s on top of the bed frame. He sits there. With the door still open he imagines he can hear the hustle and racket of a hundred other families settling down in this new place, their children's new home.

“Welcome home, Alexander.” He whispers. “Welcome home.” He pulls out his pocket size note book and a pen, begins to write.

 

 

_John Laurens_

 

Move in day is almost over by the time he finally gets to campus. He tries not to feel rushed or panicked and fails. It’s a new city _Philadelphia_. Of course he’s been there before, dragged along by his family for some ritzy event… But this is completely different. There’s no father or mom, no security, and no nanny to keep him company. The streets are loud and crowded and he’s having a hard time not getting swept up in it all.

 _He’s alone_. And he’s never felt so free or so terrified in his life. _Elated_ even.

“Aey!” The student workers calls to him once he rounds into the freshman dorm quad. They’d been milling about and take their seats while he approaches.

“Name?” One asks him.

“John Laurens.” He drops his bags and stretches while he has the chance.

“Those heavy?” One of the students asks.

“Eh, just had to haul them all the way from the train station.”

She winces in sympathy, “You from out of state then?”

“Sure am.”

“I have your key right here.”

John drags his bags in front of the woman who spoke.

She hands him a bundle. “These all explain how the dorm works, how to connect to the internet, a list of events happening before classes start. You’ll want to read them. And here is your key, it’s fifty dollars to replace so don’t lose it, and this one explains how to set your pin. You’ll need to do that tonight if you want to be able to get back inside the building.”

“Sure.”

“Bye then!”

“Bye!” They all chime at him.

He waves, takes his bags, and heads inside.

The elevators are empty and he fidgets during the ride up. His roommate will have already moved in, of course. He’s never had a roommate before and he’s anxious for them to get along. It’s not going to be the end of the world if they’re not best friends… Well, it would be nice if they could be friends. That's how it's suppose to go. He knows he shouldn't care about the narratives he's been fed but... He finds he cares a lot. Family is suppose to love and care about you. And your first college roommate is who you're suppose to brave, harsh, adult world beside.

He knocks before unlocking the door and letting himself in.

His roommate is sitting on one of the beds, scribbling away in a note book.

“Uh.”

The kid starts, putting down his pen and facing John.

“Hi, I’m John Laurens.”

“Alexander Hamilton.”

John shrugs his bags next to Alexanders, “So, did you want that side?”

“I don’t particularly care. But if you wanted to move furniture around now would be the time to do it.”

“Sure. You um… weren’t waiting were you?”

Alexander shakes his head vigorously, “No, no, I just got caught up in what I was doing. But it worked out well, don’t you think?”

John nods. Together they rearrange the room so it’s less impersonally symmetrical. They talk while they move the furniture around.

“What’s you’re major?”

“Biology? I’m not sure yet, you?”

“US history or poli sci. Maybe journalism? I’m thinking of going into law and those are both fine undergrad degrees for it.”

“You want to be a lawyer?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, “I mean it was that or be a politician. I just… really want to be involved in the way this country runs, you know? I mean, we all have a say in it, with our ballots, but…” Another shrug.

“I think I get it.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I haven’t thought that far a head, to be honest.”

“Sure.”

“So um.”

They smile at each other, as they carry one of the desks across the room.

“You know anyone else here?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“What clubs do you think you’ll join?”

“Fifteen now. And I think there’s a French language one.”

“You speak French?”

“Je fais. Ma mère… I’m a native speaker, actually.”

“Yeah? Where are you from?”

“Here. I’m second generation.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That's um… I meant-”

Alexander waves him off.

“Well, I’ve been taking Spanish since third grade but I’m still at well… a third grade level.”

He laughs. “And what clubs were you thinking about?”

“Uh, I might join fifteen now as well. But theBlack Student Union for sure.”

Alexander hums. “So how do you like this set up?”

Rearranging the room had been quite frustrating, especially since they hadn’t made up their mind weather they wanted to use the furniture to separate the room. As it stands Alexander has all his furniture grouped in the corner, the drawers under his bed and his desk at the head. John’s bed it as a right angle to Alexander’s with his and Alexander's feet in the same conner. There’s room between the end of one bed and the start of the other and that’s where they put John’s set of drawers. John’s desk is across from the door. For some reason there’s only one wardrobe, although two would have crowded the space. They put it at the head of John’s bed. It still feels cramped and dysfunctional.

“Yeah." John says, "I think this is as good as it gets."

“Great, let’s unpack. The RA’s going to ask us to sign a roommate agreement.”

John makes an inquisitive noise.

“He let me look over it earlier today. Things like, ‘how do you feel about sharing?’”

“Sharing is caring.” John says, "But ask first."

“And if someone leaves something on the floor and it gets stepped on or broken, who’s fault is it?”

“Whoever left it on the floor, maybe special consideration given if there was a heads up before hand.”

“What time do you like to be asleep by? And when’s your earliest class?”

“Nine, ten thirty at the latest and I have an eight o’clock class on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“I can stay up pretty late writing, will that bother you?”

“It might. If it’s a problem trading desks might help. And if you wanted to use yours 99% of the time and mine only when it’s late, I’d be okay with that.”

“Music?”

“Jay Z-”

“-that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, uh. I like it as a social thing, but if you’re going to listen while studying I’d rather you wear headphones.”

“Do you listen to music while studying?”

“Not usually.”

Alexander hums, “That’s all I can remember, can you think of anything else?”

There’s a knock at the door. 

John goes to get it since Alexander has managed to get tangled in his fitted sheet while trying to pull it over his mattress.

“Hi.” He greets the upper class men standing in his door way.

“Mind if I poke my head in?” He asks.

John steps out of his way so he can do so.

“Interesting set up. Anyway, this was covered in the papers you got during move in, but there’s a floor meeting tomorrow night, I need you both to be there.” He hands John a paper, “Fill this out and bring it with you.”

“The roommate agreement?”

“Yep. Do you guys need any help? Did you have any problems raising the beds?”

“Nope.” Johns says. It had been an adventure, turning the frames up side down and pounding on the posts, but they managed it.

“Sometimes they can get stuck.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well I’ll let you get on with it. I’m Hercules, by the way. I already met Alexander.” He waves at Alexander, now untangled and sitting cross legged on the bare mattress. Then exits, letting the door close behind him.

“Did you want to write it down?”

“Sure.” Alexander takes the paper. “Okay, more questions, ‘what would you do if you found your roommate had rummaged through your things while you were gone?’”

“Cry. Write that.” John says.

“I think he wants a serious answer.”

“Cry because it’s a huge betrayal of trust.”

Alexander gives him a look.

“I don’t know what I’d do.” John says, “I’m sure we’d talk about it, but I wouldn’t like, dig through your things or prank you as revenge. Oh, wait, write ‘handle it cooly and respectfully like adults.’ That’s better.”

“Okay…” John listens to the scratching of Alexander’s pen.

“What’s next?”

“Mostly the stuff we already did. ‘What would you do if your roommate woke you up in the middle of the night?”

“Grumble and go back to sleep. Maybe throw my pillow at him.” He smiles to let Alexander know he’s joking.

“What if your roommate did it habitually?”

“Is that really the next question?”

“It is.”

“This is going to take a while.”

“It’s five pages long.”

“Have you ever taken a test where the answer to every question was ‘A’ and ‘A’ was the same answer each time?”

"What? Uh, no."

“Because I feel like that’s what this is. We’d talk about it, right? And maybe we should have a monthly roommate check up to see if there are any little habits that get on our nerves.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Cool.”

Alexander skims over the questions. “What would you do if your roommate unexpectedly brought a friend to spend the night?”

John comes to stand over Alexanders shoulder and read the question, “Huh.”

“What?”

“I’m just not sure how to take that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought _friend_ might be italicized.”

Alexander’s ears go a little pink. “I’m sure,” he says emphatically, “That the questionnaire covers that.”

“I’d give your _friend_ the shovel talk.”

“They mean friend not _friend._ ”

“I know. Don’t bring over people unexpectedly.”

Alexander pushes John. “Haha.”

John returns to his spot in front of the wardrobe, unpacking. “What’s the next question?”

“How do you feel about food in the dorm room?”

“Fine, so long as it doesn’t spoil.”

“There’s a chart for dividing chores.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like it’s specific to this building since most of them are about cleaning the kitchenette or bathroom, which we don’t have.”

“Well what does apply to us?”

“Floor sweeping… Yeah, floor sweeping and taking out the trash.”

“Wait, do we even have a broom?”

“Uh…”

“Should I ask… what was his name, Hercules?” Alexander nods, “If there’s a floor broom? Or, one of our neighbors might have one.”

“I’ll start a list of things we need.” Alexander pulls out another sheet of paper before returning the to questionnaire. “That’s the end, actually. We’re supposed to sign it, it’s on that photo copy paper, so we get one. And then we have to agree where to put it.”

“In the mini fridge, write that.”

Alexander does, then brings it over to John to sign.

“So where are we actually putting it?”

“Go head and tape it to the inside of the wardrobe.” John hands him some blue tape while Alexander pulls apart the packet.

He tapes it up, leaning against John’s back to reach. “There. We are officially roommates.”

John offers him a fist bump, it’s clumsy, since he’s still settled on the floor. Alexander returns to making his bed.

“Are you going to need help with that?”

Alexander huffs.

“So do you have any posters?”

“Nope, you.”

“Nah, I’m going to add that to your list, if you don’t mind. I bet the student union has something going on. Maybe an art’s and crafts fair?”

“We could just live in this blank, white walled box for eight months.”

John makes a face.

 

When John’s done with his unpacking it’s nine thirty and he’s tired. He goes about showering and dressing for bed while Alexander alternates between putting the finishing touches on his part of the room and writing in his note book.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” John asks him, climbing into his bed.

“The club fair, or whatever it’s called.”

“Do you mind if I come with you for that?”

“Nope.”

His roommate turns off the ceiling light. He has a strange bendy lamp that’s clipped to the shelf above his desk and works by that instead.

“Good night, John.”

“Night Alexander.”

The sounds of his roommate help lull him to sleep. It's nice - calming to share this space. He hadn’t expected that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The agreement is based off of my sister and her roommate's experiences since I'm disabled and live in a single. It really was that detailed, and they really did decide to keep it in the mini fridge (which they actually have).
> 
> I'm still working on it but I don't like it.


	2. Club Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexander tries to fight the club fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It barely comes up but Hamilton has a blog. Thanks to thenonbinaryspacegem and thequantumqueer who I discussed with to come up with the title. Other suggested titles include: "Meet Me In The Pit" or "There's A Million Things I Haven't Done But Just You Wait".
> 
> And thenonbinaryspacegem wrote a bio:
> 
> "Alexander H. 19 (but my mind is older). He/him. Poly. Republicans and Jefferson can suck it. Washington rules!
> 
> (the word poly would be a link leading to a page linking to Laurens, Eliza, and Angelica's blogs)"
> 
> So thanks for that :)

John is awake at six thirty, unable to sleep any longer. He sits up, still cocooned in his blankets, and looks around. It’s still dark out but the ambient light of the city illuminates the room just fine. Alexander is sprawled in his bed, the covers which he worked so hard to straighten half untucked and twisted around his body.

It’s a nice set up they have. It’s going to be a good year.

He has the communal bathroom to himself at this hour. Maybe he should start showering in the morning instead. He returns as silently as he can but despite his best efforts Alexander stirs. He mumbles and shifts, still half asleep.

“Sorry to wake you.”

“What time is it?” Alexander yawns.

“Around six thirty.”

His roommate huffs, “Do you usually wake up this early?”

“Sometimes earlier.” John says, he settles under his covers. His bed is still warm. 

Alexander grumbles something.

“Early to bed, early to rise.”

“Black magic.”

John laughs, grabbing his phone of his dresser for something to read. “Go back to sleep.” He tells his roommate.

There’s nothing interesting on the internet. Rather, there’s nothing that holds his interest. Rather than being irritated John finds he’s content with the company of his thoughts while he observes the room and the slowly shifting light. It’s peaceful, like few moments in his life have ever been. It’s all his own, his roommate isn’t even awake to be witness to it.

 

Alexander wakes up properly, with much grumbling and groaning, at half past seven. “You up for good?” John asks him after Alex has settled, half propped up on his arm.

“I think so. You seem ready to start the day.”

“Well the cafeteria is open now.”

“Good, I need coffee.” Once Alexander has propelled himself into the new day he doesn’t stop. His morning routine takes half the time John’s did.

“This is going to be a good time for breakfast.” John says. The students waiting around for the cafeteria to open are already seated and eating. And the students who arrive afterward are few and far between.

Alexander huffs, “It’s never a good time for breakfast.”

John clucks at him, "But it's the most important meal of the day."

They part ways as they fill their trays and then reconvene in the seating area. Alexander has picked a table where the chairs face across from each other. He nurses his coffee like it’s a cup of heaven. It makes John smile. He settles in himself, taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere.

It’s easy to tell which sets of roommates new each other before move in day. They stretch there feet out languidly under the table, comfortably existing in the other’s space. Or they sit shoulder to shoulder in larger groups, leaning against each other in careless, affectionate conversation.

John has never had a friend like that. Such a demonstration of closeness has been demanded of him from the cameras and press. He’d pretend a stranger, son of CEO so-and-so was his best pal. And he’d always wondered what it felt like when such displays were real. Being in the public eye left him feeling like his every move was subject to scrutiny. It left him self conscious of every possible invasion into another's space. What must it be like to just... not feel that way?

Alexander kicks him under the table and John starts.

“Huh?”

“You okay?”

“What?”

“You zoned out for a second.”

“Uh, yeah, just tired.”

Alexander makes a noise of hearty agreement with a mouth full of coffee.

“So when does that club fair open?”

“Not till eleven.”

“Do you want to stop by the student union then? See if there’s anything going on there?”

“Sure.”

They finish their meal in efficient silence. Part way through Alexander takes out his note book to write, eating with his left hand. It’s a little mesmerizing to watch and John doesn’t want to break the spell.

Once they are done and buss their dishes John asks, “Would you be bothered if I tried to talk to you while you were writing?”

“Uh… No, but I might not always be able to give you enough attention.”

“Okay, good to know. I just uh…”

“It’s nice.” Alexander says, “Thoughtful. Of you.”

“I try.”

 

“I knew it.” John says when he sees the little festival outside of the student union building. There are umbrellas, little booths, and over a hundred posters.

“Any movies you like?” John asks as he starts flipping through one of the stacks.

“I haven’t had the time to watch anything recently.”

John hums, “I have to say, nothing sticks out in my memory.” 

“TV shows?”

“Nah.”

“Let’s just skip over to the art section then.”

“Starry night.”

“Yep, too clique though, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Where are we going to hang it?” Alexander asks.

John stops shuffling through the piles, “Good point.”

“See if there’s something you really like.”

“I mean…” John sighs, “Dorm room decorating.”

“Am I persuading you?”

“To live in a blank room instead!? No. I’m just thinking.”

They flip through the posters

“Maybe I should get a sketch book… make some art to hang up.”

“You draw?”

“A bit.”

“You should, that would be nice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Way better than buying some mass produced, anonymous, interchangeable trash.”

“Strong words. But better than your blank wall plan too. What should I draw?”

Alexander looks around, like he might find the answer on this city corner “What do you like to draw?”

“Animals. Plants. That sort of thing.”

“Not too much of that in the city.”

John laughs. “No, I suppose not.”

“You didn’t bring a sketch book with you?”

“Uh, no. I’m not in the habit of working in a sketch book.”

“Why?”

John shrugs. It seems like it should be a simple answer, but it’s wrapped up in his relationship with his family and he doesn’t want to touch that with a ten foot poll. Not with Alexander, not now. “It’s not like writing in a note book.” He says instead, “Each page is it’s own thing, it doesn’t matter if it has company or not.”

Alexander hums, “That makes sense.”

“I didn’t draw all that often.” John offers. “And it’s disheartening, when it takes too long to fill a sketch book.”

Alexander pulls out his phone, “If you wanted to pick one up there’s an art store a few blocks from here.”

“I'll think about it. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Sure."

John lets the last of the posters fall back against the others, "Do you want to just walk then? Get used to campus.”

“That sounds nice.”

It’s chilly for August. Then again John’s more accustom to California summers. They walk aimlessly, taking note of each school building while they talk.

“What do you write, by the way?” John asks.

Alexander shrugs, “All sorts of stuff, I guess. Whatever pops into my mind. I keep a journal, but I also write a lot of rhetoric. You know, just my thoughts. When I was applying for scholarships I was a lot more focused, trying to respond to the prompt. Now I just write about whatever happens to catch my attention.”

“Do you have a blog?”

“I do, actually. It’s called ‘Oh, And One More Thing’.”

“I knew it. You totally seem like you’d have a blog. How about reading?”

“Hmm?”

“Who’s your favorite author?”

“I don’t really have one. Too many to pick from, you know?”

“Sure, what do you like to read then?”

Alexander shrugs, “I’m not picky.”

“Alright, why don't you just list books you like then.”

“There are a lot of books.”

“We’ve got a while to wait for the club fair.”

“Just giving you a warning. Alright, here goes: _Politics Lost_ by Joe Klein, _Song of Solomon_ by Toni Morrison, _The Vagina Monologues_ by Eve Ensler,” He continues with quite a long list. John can’t remember it all, “That enough?”

John whistles. “I’m just impressive you can even remember so many titles and authors. Was there any order to it?”

“I read them all in the past year. _Politics Lost_ is, I guess, one of my favorites. Most people want a novel though, when they ask for your favorite book. It's out of place to bring up political non-fiction.  _Song of Solomon_ was the last book I had to read for highschool... But yeah I was just running through genres and picking the first thing that came to mind.”

“So how much do you read?”

“About two books a month. Sometimes more. Libraries are the best.”

“So what would you recommend?”

“ _The Iliad_ , actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I found this translation I’m really pumped about. I haven’t been able to get it yet though. Maybe they have it here. Anyway, it’s what I want to read next.”

“That’s not really how book recommendations work.”

“Well what would you recommend?”

John shrugs.

“I’m easy.” Alexander reminds him.

John snorts. “Honestly, your book _ramble_ is too intimidating to follow. And besides, I’m having a hard time thinking of a title I really liked.”

“That’s such a cop-out.”

“You said you haven’t had too much time for movies or TV shows?”

“Yeah?”

“Well we could watch something together. I have a Netflix account.” He adds when Alex looks confused, possibly because they don’t have a TV.

“Like what?”

“Whatever. Have you seen _Star Trek_? You might like _Leverage_.”

“What’s _Leverage_ about?”

“It’s sort of a modern day robin hood story combined with a crime drama, I guess. It’s about these ex criminals and an insurance person who right the wrongs committed by cooperations and greedy politicians against the innocent.”

Alexander smiles, “That sounds _grea_ t.”

“I’ve also heard good things about _House of Cards_ but I’ve never seen it.”

“Well shouldn’t we watch something neither of us have seen then?”

John shrugs, “No. It would be nice to share that show with you. Anyway, I think the club fair has started by now."

They head over.

"It looks like they're still setting up." All the white folding tables are lined up around the quad but most are empty. The ones with people around them are still pulling out there table cloths and setting out their candy, flyers, trinkets, and sign up sheets. The sound system is set up at least, playing music.

"Do you want to wait here or...?"

"Waiting here is fine." 

They take a seat in a part of the quad without any tables. Alexander pulls out his note book again and it makes John's fingers itch for pen and a paper. Instead John contents himself by reading over Alexander's shoulder. It seems to be an argument for prison reform.

"Is that really true?" John asks.

Alexander turns to him, and suddenly they feel too close together. "Is what true?"

John doesn't pull back. He focuses on the page and finally points to the line that had caught his attention.

"Yes, people in prison are counted as part of the population in the state the prison is in."

"That's horrible." John says, skimming over the rest of what Alexander wrote. "Yeah." He points to another section where Alexander's brought up the three fifth policy.

"You didn't know?"

John shrugs. "No. I mean I agree with prison reform but..." He waves his hand at the page, another section jumping out at him.  _Convicted felons can't vote even after they are free._ "This is so..." He shakes his head.

"I know what you mean." And Alexander goes back to writing.

The fair is finally set up, closer to eleven thirty than eleven. They walk up and down the tables methodically, taking candy and flyers, playing games. As time goes on it gets more and more crowded and John has to rest his hand on Alexander’s shoulder so as not to lose him. He darts from table to table, sometimes just reading the signs and flyers, sometimes engaging the leaders in a debate.

“You know, we didn’t need to talk to every single club, right?” John says once they’re shuffled through the fair and collected enough flyers to wall paper their room. “You definitely didn’t need to yell at the Republican guy.”

“That information was deeply misleading, boarding on untrue, and you know it. A disagreement over ideology is one thing, a big thing, sure, but knowingly  _lying_ is another all together.”

John slings his arm around Alexander’s shoulder as the walk down the street. As Alexander starts into a rant, which John is only half listening to. He guides his roommate, keeping him from walking off the curb or into any poles or unexpecting pedestrians. Despite his best efforts Alexander whapes his hand against a news paper dispenser with gesticulating. He shakes it off, though it sounded pretty painful, and goes right into his next point.

“That was impressive.” John says when Alexander heaves a deep breath.

“What was?”

“You talked so fast and so articulately, totally off the cuff.”

 “I’m right though.”

"You are."

 


	3. Floor Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Lafayette!

 They return to the dorm. And despite the help from the move in day flyers it takes them an hour to set of their wifi.

“Finally!” John punches the air when the page loads. “Here we go.”

Alexander joins him on John’s bed. John balances the lap top so it rests on each of their tights. And they start in on episode one. John watches Alexander more than the screen, each of his little smiles and huffs of amusement is intensely validating. At the end Alexander even whistles.

“Right?” John asks.

“Are they all like that?”

“Pretty much.” 

“Let’s watch the next one.”

 

 

There is a cramped common room in-between the communal bathrooms. It’s windowless. Fluffy floor rugs and several large cork boards decorated with colorful construction paper and those inspirational quotes John thought were exclusive to highschool try to make up for the confined and uncaring atmosphere of the space.

One of the cork boards reads “What’s your goal for the new school year?” with a few responses already written in. For lack of anything better to do, the RA isn’t even here yet, John and Alexander move over to read them. Some one has written _Sleep more_ and in another’s hand their is a reply _Good luck with that…_

It makes John smile.

Alexander adds _Write more_ with a red marker.

“Really?” They’d stopped watching _Leverage_ when it sparked an idea Alexander just had to write down. By the time he was finished they realized their wasn’t enough time for another episode and instead decided to stake out the meeting place.

Alexander just smiles at him, eyes gleaming. He crosses it out and writes _Piss off more Republicans._

John draws the elephant symbol next to the words. He even includes the stars.

 _Fight everyone_ Alexander adds under neath it. 

John draws boxing gloves. 

Hercules walks in then.

“You too are early.”

“We noticed.”

“Most of them will probably be late. So how was your day?”

“Good.” They chime in unison.

“Cool, what did you do?”

“We went to the club fair and stopped at the student union to see their little bazaar.”

“Nice, did you see anything you liked?”

“Alexander found a lot that he didn’t.” And John turns back to the board and underlines Alexander’s last words three times.

Hercules laughs.

“I wouldn’t say that… The ultimate frisbee guys seemed okay.”

“But the male acapella group inspired a half hour scolding.”

“Debate.” Alexander corrects.

“What’s wrong with the group?” Hercules asks.

John sighs. “A summary, Alexander, please.”

Alexander glares at him, then takes a deep breath of his own, “Their slogan or whatever is ‘no girls allowed.’ The reversal, if there was, say a girls only safe space with the slogan ‘no boys allowed’ would have been an intelligent and satirical twist on the concept. But a group who has no focus in activism or community building just mindlessly recycling such a phrase, childish, outdated, and exclusionary, is just unnecessary, perpetuating sexist attitude. There’s nothing humorous or amusing in it. There’s no reason to take a phrase which has been used to bully and exclude women by their peers since childhood and use it in this instance. It was all across their business cards and even their CDs which I am assuming they are open to woman purchasing. It creates an unnecessary sense superiority in an ‘us verses them’ mentality.”

“Dude.” Hercules interjects, “Take a breath.”

This just further ruffles Alexander. John puts a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

Hercules continues, “Why don’t you write this down and send it to student affairs?”

Alexander turns to leave.

“After the floor meeting!” Hercules adds. Correctly assuming that if Alexander went off to do it now he's completely forget about the meeting until he finished writing his complaint.

“How long did it take you to go through the fair?” He asks John.

“Four hours? Maybe five? We were there from opening to closing.”

“Wow.”

Another student joins them.

“Hello, Lafayette.” Hercules greets.

“Hello, Hercules.”

Alexander lights up at the words spoken in a thick French accent.

“Bonjour!” Lafayette looks annoyed at the sudden interruption until Hamilton bursts into fluent French, “ _I am Alexander Hamilton_. _It has been too long since I had a conversation with someone else fluent in French. If you are agreeable I would be elated to spend some time getting to know you. Perhaps after this floor meeting?_

 _“You speak French?!”_ Lafayette breaks out into a wide grin and turns to beam at Alexander, “ _I too have been exhausted by how few here know my mother tongue. Half the time I feel like I can’t understand anyone and the other half I feel like they can’t understand me. It is nice to find someone who I can communicate with easily. I would like to spend time with you as well.”_

Hercules and John smile at each other over Alexander’s and Lafayette’s shoulder. Neither are quite sure how to proceed after this sudden turn in the conversation which leaves them both lost and confused.

_“That’s great. Let me also introduce you to my roommate John Laurence. And if you will forgive me, I did not catch your name.”_

_“Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette_ _though if you’ve noticed, people tend to call me Lafayette.”_

Alexander turns so that John is now included in the conversation. John smiles, accepting that he feels now how Lafayette must feel all the time. And if Alexander wishes to try and include him he will go along with it. Lafayette offers a hand. They shake.

“Très heureux!”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Do you guys want to play a card game?” John suggests, realizing that he has a deck in his bag.

“Sure.”

Lafayette nods.

John goes about demonstrating the rules while Alexander translates. After one practice round everyone is used to the rules and the rest of the time passes quite comfortably. Alexander and Lafayette talk. Alexander and John talk. And occasionally John and Lafayette talk through Alexander.

Slowly the rest of the floor settles in. Hercules eventually grabs their attention.

“Questions at the end.” He starts, “You all listening? Good. Wear shoes when you shower, you don’t want to get athletes foot. Don’t leave trash outside your door. Next to the laundry room there is the trash room. That’s where trash goes. Don’t put metal in the microwave. Don’t smoke in the building and don’t light candles. Someone will set off the fire alarm at two in the morning. Do not be that person. It will bring you a heaping of bad karma in the next life.”

“Guest policy allows you to have three guests at a time. Two of them can stay past midnight. Guests can only stay over night for a maximum of three nights in a row. You must sign your guest out when they leave. Your guest must have an ID. Guests who are also minors will not be allowed in the building between eight and three.”

“No alcohol, no weapons, no drugs. The number for the RA phone is on the board, as is the one for maintenance. The numbers are also posted by the elevators. I think that’s all - any questions?” 

Alexander rapid fire translates for Lafayette in the lull.

“No questions?” Hercules asks once Alexander has finished. “Cool, I’ll collect your roommate agreement - wait - if you have to go back to your room to get it that’s fine. You have another form to fill out as well. Once I have both you can have your guest cards. Alright, go.”

John is the one to grab the new form, one to list pre-existing damages to their dorm room. It doesn’t take nearly as long as the roommate agreement and they are some of the first to return it to Hercules.

He hands over their cards, “Alright, that’s all.”

“Did you want to wait here for Lafayette?”

Alexander checks his watch, “Sure. But it’s getting late for you, isn’t it.”

“It is. Tell him I enjoyed meeting him, will you?”

“Of course, good night, John.”

“Goodnight, Alexander.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The card game I imagine them playing is called Palace. Here's the wiki how  
> http://www.wikihow.com/Play-the-Palace-Card-Game
> 
> I do carry a deck of cards with my everywhere incase I meet someone new and want to play while talking. It's also a pretty strategic game. I was thinking about going with chess but... I hate chess.
> 
> Also, my sister is also home from break today and shared a great story with me which I will adapt for this college AU because it was SO. GOOD.
> 
> I might post it before I figure out how I want to work it into the over arching story. Not sure yet. I'm a little worried about messing with my day by day blow by blow story telling.
> 
> Also, plot coming soon, maybe?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe one shouldn't start two college AUs in the same fandom? Yeah, that seems, in hind sight, to have been a bad idea. Hence why today's chapter is so short. I'll need to create an outline to get my brain back on track and find a plot.

Alexander and Lafayette stay up late into the night talking about everything and nothing. It’s one in the morning when Alexander lets himself back into his room. It’s his turn to creep, trying not to wake his roommate. Despite the late hour he turns on his desk lamp and starts writing, aware of John’s steady breathing behind him.

Once he’s done he turns to look at his roommate. _John’s beautiful._ He thinks _._ The light from his lamp illuminates fragments of John’s face and hair. It looks a little like his skin glows where the light hits it. He wonders how John would draw what Alexander sees. Would his roommate rather paint? How does one go about capturing that delicate shading?

Alexander shouldn’t even attempt such a feet. He has no talent or skill for artistic pursuits. However… He pulls his note book back out and turns his desk chair to face John.

He puts pen to paper and captures the poetry of this moment in words instead of lines.

 

 

John wakes at the much more reasonable hour of seven. He doesn’t accidentally disturb Alexander this time. Once showered and dressed he fetches some construction paper and markers from the lounge, entertaining himself by sketching their room in careful perspective. He could probably take an art class… Figure drawing maybe? 

He’d entertained himself as a child by painting the lizards and rodents he found in the garden as well as the birds in the sky. It would be a nice change while still letting him capture the curves and characteristics of living things. If he did something with architecture it would just be straight lines. Other classes might have him doing still lifes or land scapes and that wouldn’t do… 

He lifts the marker, realizing that he’d been sketching the plains of Alexander’s form on this new page and not the brick work of the walls.

He considers the drawing, debates tearing it up, it’s just scrap paper after all. Instead he goes and puts it in his desk.

Portraiture?

Perhaps he should just sketch without a class, get a note book, some drawing pencils. Maybe even some water colors…


	5. Two Lies and a Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette play a game.

 

Lafayette, John, and Alexander were all supposed to grab lunch at one. The only problem is, Alexander isn’t here. John spots Lafayette easily enough, and they loiter around the outside of the dinning hall.

“So how have classes been?”

“Classes are good, you?”

“Good, too. Yeah, we played some get to know you games in one. That was… weird.”

“Get to know… games?”

“Uh, yeah. Going around, saying are names mostly.”

“And this is a game?”

“I uh… well… it was more of an activity. I mean. There are game versions but uh… That’s not really…”

Lafayette gives him a puzzled look. “An example?”

“Of what?”

“Of a game.”

“Oh, uh. Two truths and a lie! Or two lies and a truth!”

“What?”

“It’s uh, the name… uh.”

“Alright.”

“So um, depending on which it is you think of three statements. So, in two lies, I’d come up with two false statements and one that is true. But um, it’s supposed to be statements about you. And then the other players guess which is the truth.”

“Okay.”

“That’s the game.”

“Let’s play.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, you start.”

“Of course uh… I’m from Santa Rosa, I’m an artist, and my last name is a common girl’s first name.”

“What is Santa Rosa?”

“A city in California.”

“Are you from California?” Lafayette asks, interested.

John raises his eyebrows, “I don’t know, am I?”

“How would I know!”

“You’re suppose to guess which is the truth and which are the lies,” John reminds him.

“Oh right, hmm.” While Lafayette thinks they make their way into the cafeteria.

“Laurens is your name?”

“My last name, correct.”

“Laurens…”

They pile food onto their trays, moving through the lines of students. John can’t help but think about how horrible this place would be when crowded. By the time they are seated, in a happy medium between being toward the back of the sitting area, away from the noise and crowd, and the front where Alexander would have an easier time finding them, Lafayette has his answer.

“I think the bit about your last name is the truth.”

“It’s a lie, actually.”

“It is?”

“Yep.”

“But then… I’m sure there are many girls named Laurens.”

“There are many named _Lauren_ , no s.”

“That’s… That’s… what’s the word?”

“Underhanded?”

Lafayette huffs, “Alright, what is the truth then?”

“I’m an artist.”

“Can I see your work?”

John shrugs. “I don’t bring any of it with me. But I was thinking of going out and buying a sketchbook. Maybe we could make a trip of it.”

Lafayette nods. “Now what?”

“Now you think of two lies and a truth.”

“Ah… very well.”

Lafayette things about it, apparently stirring is soup with a spoon. “I am from Paris, I am a poet, and my full name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayatte, Marquis de La Fayette.”

“You’re a poet,” John replies instantly.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I lied about where I am from and tricked you with my name. And besides, with a name like that you’d only have to change one small bit of it to make it a lie and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“You over estimate my understanding of the game. My full name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayatte, Marquis de La Fayette.”

John shrugs. “Alright, Marie-Joseph Paul…”

Lafayette smiles at him. And John catches sight of Alexander over the Marquis’ shoulder.

“Sorry I’m so late,” Alexander says as he sets down his tray. “Our professor just did not stop lecturing, and the subject wasn’t even related to his class.” He sighs heavily. 

To Lafayette he says, in French, “I’m so sorry, I hope my absence did not cause a rift between you and John.”

Lafayette replies, “Not at all, we were just playing ‘two lies and a truth’. You should go, do you know this game?”

“I do.”

In English, and to John, Lafayette says, “Shouldn’t Alexander go now?”

“Go now what?”

“The game.”

“Oh, yes, um, sure.”

“Alright.” Alexander says, “Give me a minute to think…” He turns to John and says, “You know, I think you already know everything about me.”

“Do you know Lafayette’s full name?” John asks, suddenly.

Alexander turns to his friend. “I can’t say I do.”

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayatte, Marquis de La Fayette.”

The conversation flows so freely John almost misses his next class. As it is Alexander shoos him off and promises that it’s no trouble, he’ll clean up the tray and half eaten food.

“Got to dash.”

 

The rest of the day isn’t boring, per se. They go over syllabi, make small talk, and, in one class, even debate a little bit. It’s relaxed despite it being like the calm before the storm. Homework, papers, quizzes, projects, tests all loom on the horizon. But none of it’s being assigned today. Still, after so long from his roommate’s company, John is anxious to return to his company. The days before the start of the school had been so peaceful and free. So then suddenly having hours of sporadic classes is jarring. He’ll adjust to the seemingly random schedule soon enough. Which, of course, is why such a realized first day of classes is nice.

 

 


	6. Bonus Stump Debate Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason the date time didn't update with that last chapter? So now you get this one as well.
> 
> I'll try to actually work it in somehow but I'm not sure yet.

“Who's ready for the stump debate?” Someone yells.

The words act like a corse correction on Alexander who stops talking mid sentence and turns to join the group. John follows easily, not even jostled by the sudden change in direction. 

There’s a woman standing on a stump with a group of thirty or so students gathered around her.

“Volunteers?”

Alexander’s hand shoots up so fast he almost hit’s John’s face.

“You!” The woman points to him, “Up here then.”

Another boy also volunteers.

“Alright,” She tells them, “The topic today is those Star Bucks coffee cups. Should they are should they not have god’s name on them.” She points to Alexander, “You’re for it.” And to the other participant she says, “You’re against it. Now, who would like to open. You have thirty seconds then a ten second back and forth.”

She drops down from the stump and Alexander jumps up.

“Every piece of American currency has god’s name on it.” He starts, passion already apparent in his voice. “So of course Star Bucks coffee cups should also have his name on them. Other wise I am giving away some of god when I buy something that does not have his holy name on it in turn. And that is unacceptable. That is blasphemy. I should not have to give up any of god just to enjoy an over priced Frappuccino.”

He hops off of the stump to a thunderous applause and laughter.

His opponent climbs up on it. John can’t hear his opening statement so he moves further into the crowd. He catches the end, “I put alcohol in my morning coffee and I don’t want to feel like Jesus judges my mid day drinking.”

“Well, first off” Alexander starts before they’ve even traded places on the stump. He almost loses his balance but catches himself, “Jesus turned water into wine so I think you have the drinking in common. And he didn’t judge people in the first place!”

The group whoops.

They go back and forth a few more times. By the time the moderator stops the debate and has them go through closing statements, “What good Christian would I be if I drank from an vessel with out his holy name on it? I take some of his essence into me and it makes me good. Not doing so would lead me to succumb to to devil worship and buggery.” John is smiling so hard his face hurts.

“Alright! Alright!” The moderator calls, “Who thinks Alexander won?” Everyone raises their hands. “And who thinks James won?”

There is silence. “Come on Adam!” James calls, “Vote for me.”

“Nope.” His friend calls back, “You got your ass handed to you, accept it like a man!”

“Alexander wins! Congratulations.”

The stump debate disperses.

John and Alexander meet up again, “That was fantastic!” John says. Alexander looks smug. John throws his arm over his shoulder and they walk off again, “You just-” He’s lost for words.

“I’m a world champ bullshitter.” Alexander confirms.

“That you are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I said before my sister did this! She was asleep when I wrote this so I had to make up the details I didn't remember but yeah. I think I got all the important parts. (Also she didn't bring up Alexander's ending, that was me.)
> 
> And yeah, did so well that the guy she was debating with, his friends didn't even vote for him.
> 
> "succumb to to devil worship and buggery" is like those bigoted Christian signs that are all like "Feminism will teach your daughters devil worship, witch craft, and lesbianism." But since I'm using 1800 century sexuality and relationship norms lesbianism as an idea doesn't exist and buggery (AKA sodomy) is the closest to that idea. So Alexander's crowd would know he's referencing something specific. It's still pretty gutsy and a little scandalous though.

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a little slow until I start classes again. I'm trying to write about the start of a semester while being at the end of it making things very difficult.
> 
> Comments and conceit most welcome! I really want to improve as a writer and every comment helps sooth the anxiety I feel about putting my work out into the world.
> 
> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


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